


Boy Doll

by PKlovesDW



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Boy Doll, M/M, Non-magical AU, Romance, doll - Freeform, puppet, toy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-06
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-01-11 10:01:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1171750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PKlovesDW/pseuds/PKlovesDW
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Non-Magical AU. In a cupboard under the stairs, there lives a boy who didn't receive anything. But on one day, he was blessed with a toy. But what happens when said toy is destroyed by the very person he managed to get the toy away from? Would you keep it or throw it away? Doll!Draco. DM/HP. By DW.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Toy

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! I tentatively present to you a new multi-chaptered story. I feel kind of guilty for starting a new project, while my other multi-chaptered stories aren't getting any attention. Oh well. So, this is a story which was inspired by several thing. Firstly, the song "A Doll's Voice" by Kamui Gakupo, and a bit by the manga "Lovers Doll" by Mishima Kazuhiko. Which doesn't necessarily mean it follows the actual plots. I hope you like this story, because I'm pretty enthusiastic about it!

 

**Toy**

* * *

A toy is a very important thing for a child to have. It enables them to create a world of their own, to let them escape the cruel fate of reality. Having a toy also gives them responsibility, because they have to look after it. Once lost, it's hard to get it back. Every child has a toy which is cherished beyond belief. A toy they can't sleep without, or a toy they would miss instantly when it isn't around. Sometimes, when a toy goes missing, it can have a negative influence on a child, causing depression and unmanageable behaviour. It can also be a medium of friendship. Children quickly bond over the things they like, or the things they have in common. A toy to talk about would be a nice way to break the ice between children. While they are easily satisfied with toys, there is always that one thing they seemingly can't live without. And such was the case with a boy and his puppet.

This specific boy acquired this puppet through his cousin, who, after playing with it for one day, threw it out. Thanks to this boy, the puppet was saved from an unfortunate fate. While treated like trash by one, he was cherished by another. Even though the space he lived in wasn't large, it was compensated by the warmth he received from the boy. He didn't leave the room, and was always sat on a shelf, a bit hidden between toy soldiers. The porcelain face was only dimly illuminated by a light bulb, which flickered every now and then, announcing its nearing end. Not a scratch marked the precious doll, for it was treated with great care and gentleness. The doll was the hidden treasure of the boy, for the boy had never laid hands on something he could call his own. His cousin had taken everything from him, or destroyed the things he didn't care for anymore. It was indeed something akin to a miracle that the doll got out of the previous room unscathed.

The door opened a crack, and the morning light poured into the dimly lit room, making it look even shabbier in the harsh daylight. The current owner of the puppet quickly pulled the door shut behind him, and sat down on his tiny bed. Pulling his knees to his chest, the tiny boy threw his arms around them, making him look even tinier. Pitiful mumblings filled the room, followed by stifled sobs. And so the boy cried for several minutes, before looking up and wiping his nose and eyes. His eyes settled on the doll in the corner of a shelf, hidden behind toy soldiers for safety. A wry smile tugged at his lips, making him look even more of a mess.

"It must be nice, being a doll. You can just sit there and be pretty, and be admired by all. You'd be loved by the owner and treasured beyond all things, until that person grows bored of you." The boy reached forward and brushed the toy soldiers aside, and carefully lifted the fragile-looking doll. He sniffled a bit more, though a tender smile adorned his face. "I won't grow bored with you, though. You're my treasure. Though it doesn't look nice, being hidden behind the soldiers. But I have to, or else my cousin will take you away. And he can't do that, because you're mine now. He didn't want you. When I get out of here, I'll take you with me and I'll make sure you'll be all pretty, being able to be seen by everybody. Something such as you shouldn't be hidden away at all." The boy touched the cold porcelain, before carefully putting the puppet back in its place. Gathering all his toy soldiers together, he carefully placed them back in place, so the doll was hidden at first sight.

Wiping at his face for the last time, the boy opened the door of his cupboard. His relatives would be angry with him if he kept them waiting. Besides, an eight-year-old boy shouldn't cry anymore.

Such was the life of Harry Potter.


	2. Doll

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hello, everyone! First, I'd like to apologise for the switching of POVs. And it's not going to stop anytime soon. It's probably going to switch a bit between Harry and Draco. But I guess you'll do fine! If it bothers you, well, I'm quite sorry!
> 
> Secondly, you can skip this if you'd like. It's just that I'm going to share an experience from today. So, for school, I have to be an intern somewhere where there are young animals being born. Which means that it's either sheep, cows, goats or horses (pretty much, at least). So, my internship has sheep. And today I had to deliver the lambs on my own. Well, one sheep already had one lamb, and I delivered the other. And I delivered another lamb. And last, but not least, I delivered triplets. But those were damned annoying. The first one already had the head out by the time we got there. So we quickly cornered her and locked her up. Then I tried to see if I could push the head back, but with no such luck. So I had to move underneath the head, and had the find the legs quickly (or else there was a risk of suffocation, of course). And of course the legs were hard to find. But in the end, the little lamb was born with no problems. Then came the second. I think that one had his head to the side. So I had to reposition the head, and then it was a piece of cake. Same with the third. Erm, yeah! That was the experience of the day (so I was really busy running around with young lambs and everything!) I sometimes still feel like I'm in the birth canal of the sheep (which is quite an odd sensation). Anyway, without further ado, chapter 2 of Boy Doll!

* * *

**Doll**

* * *

Being a doll was fine with me. It always had been. Being unable to move was fine, being unable to talk was all right, and not having emotions were things I was used to. A doll was a doll, its meaning to just sit back and look pretty. I was manufactured in a large factory. I don't know how many of my kind were produced. I only knew that the making of our kind was quickly pulled to a stop. People preferred the girl dolls, not the male dolls. Male dolls were only reserved for superheroes and other symbolic personages, not for female-looking porcelain figures. So the production quickly came to a halt. One day, I even heard them talk of aborting the entire series, since there were such few people looking for boy dolls. It was all about the females, with their cheeks the colour of freshly picked apples, the skin of just fallen snow, the lips of the most tender pink, and the eyes, large and innocent. The male dolls were undesired. Eventually, they decided to just sell the dolls they had and see how it went.

And so I was packaged and shipped off to a certain store, where I was put on a shelf. However, there seemed to be a mistake. Only a day later, I was picked from the shelf. The box I was in was dark, and I couldn't see anything. I heard people talking all around me, and inside the box I felt myself sway to the rhythm of the person who was holding me. I was but down, heard a  _bleep_  noise, and knew I was sold. I still wondered, though, who would desire a doll such as me. I heard a woman, though. Women were more likely to buy a doll like me, weren't they? I was harshly thrown somewhere, and the female voice spoke up, hissing.

"Don't you dare break that, Vernon! It's Dudley's birthday tomorrow."

"I know," a male voice briskly spoke up. I was pulled upright and put somewhere. At the very least, I wasn't thrown around anymore. I heard slamming, which indicated doors had closed. I had heard the sound several times before. Did that mean I was really going somewhere? Was I really desired? Was I meant as a birthday present for a certain Dudley? If I had a heart, then surely it would've started to pound in excitement. I wondered what my new master would be like. Would that person be kind? Would he seat me somewhere, so that person could look and admire me from where he sat? I didn't know, but at the very least I knew I was purchased, which was better than still standing on a shelf, waiting.

Our journey came to a halt quickly, and I was pulled from whatever I was squished between. A door was opened and I was brought somewhere.

"Petunia, you want to pack it immediately?"

"Yes, before Dudley comes home. We wouldn't want him to see his surprise."

And so I was turned around several times, ostensibly to be wrapped up. It was a special something, being wrapped before being presented to a master, who would gaze longingly upon the toy he so desired. Eventually the turning came to a halt, and I was put somewhere dark. The light which managed to shine through the cracks in the carton were cut off, and everything was cast in darkness. But that didn't matter, because I would be presented to my new master tomorrow.

* * *

There should be a limit to excited chatter. The entire room filled with voices and barking commands. The people who seemed rather kind yesterday were constantly ordering someone around. And there was another kid, who always whined. But nevertheless, I was excited to be lifted out of the dark carton box I was in. Surely the world beyond the factory and the box was more beautiful and kind? And so I waited, and eventually the bustling stopped for a little bit, until it picked back up again. Apparently, people were coming inside. Was that what usually happened on the thing called a "birthday"? I didn't know a lot about the world besides the factory I was created in, and the box I was put into. If I had emotions, I would probably feel nervous, or even scared. However, I possessed no such things, so I was just waiting in the dark room.

After a while, a song reverberated around the room. It sounded merry, even though it was a simple song.

"Are you ready for your presents, Diddykins?"

Ah, this was the moment I had been waiting for, wasn't it? The "presents". Was I a "present" too, I wondered? Was I going to be one of the many others too choose from? Or am I going to be special? Suddenly light crept back through the gaps in the cardboard box. There was some rummaging, as presents beside me were picked up. I heard the tearing of the wrapping paper and the sounds made as the packages were opened. As more presents were picked up, it became clear that the boy was very particular about the toys he wanted. I wondered if I would be good enough for the boy whom I've never met, and who would become my master. Finally I felt my box move, before I was handed over. I heard the tearing of the wrapping paper, and the resulting gasp.

"Mum! Is this the G.I. Joe Crusader Space Shuttle?"

Was that what I was? Was that what I was called? But… a space crusader? Surely that couldn't be correct? Suddenly an overwhelming amount of light flooded in my box and I was blinded momentarily. "What is this?" I could practically hear the disdain dripping from his lips.

"What is it, Pumpkin? Is something the matter? Is it not what you want?"

I was roughly pulled out of my box, and was left dangling between the fingers of my owner. The disdain I had previously heard in the voice was clearly spread all over the face of my master. There were several people around. A woman, who seemed to be the mother, a man who clearly resembled his son in several aspects, another woman, and a boy who could be the friend of the person who was dangling me from his fingers. " _What_  is this," he asked with a trembling voice and a beet-red head.

"Oh, Diddykins! Surely there must've been a mistake. We're terribly sorry. Should we get you a new one?"

Suddenly I was flung through the air, and landed on the carpet with a careless smack, my limbs curling awkwardly beneath my body. "I don't want that stupid thing! I want my G.I. Joe! Where is it?!"

"Pumpkin, please calm down! Mummy will buy you a new one! Shall we also buy you an ice cream at the end of the day? Just open the rest of your presents, dear. It'll be all right."

With a petulant look on his face, my master opened the rest of the presents, and I lay forgotten on the ground, just a heap of porcelain and fabric. This world I lived in now wasn't kind at all.

After a while, all the presents were opened and arranged, with the birthday boy beaming, seemingly all forgetting about the unwanted toy, me. The goodbyes were exchanged between the people who visited, and the house was silent again.

"Come on, Dudley. Let's get you that toy and ice cream we promised." The dad waddled to his son and put his hand on his shoulder. Dudley nodded. "Wait a minute."

As his parents prepared to leave, his footsteps echoed nearer. Was I going to be stepped on? Would I be stamped on and thrown away? It seemed a fitting end for an unwanted toy. However, he picked me up with disdain and walked out the door. Lifting the lid of the garbage container, I was thrown in unceremoniously. Just before the lid closed again, a malicious sneer adorned the face of the person who treated me like a piece of trash. "Unwanted toys should just disappear." And with a tremendous crash, the lid came down and hid the light of day.

* * *

I don't know how much time passed, but suddenly the lid was opened again. Was it because there was more trash to throw away? Was I going to be drowned in garbage? But the face I saw when the lid opened wasn't one I recognised. It didn't resemble any of the faces I had seen so far. So what was that boy doing in the backyard?

His hands reached forwards, however, and I was gently scooped up. He patted me gently, so the dirt which was clinging to me fell off. He was rather skittish, looking left, right and behind him, as if afraid of being caught. His big, green eyes were hidden behind enormous spectacles, but they seemed full of adoration. "You'd be my toy, won't you? Dudley threw you out, I saw. He shouldn't have done such a thing. You're too pretty to be thrown around." He pressed me to his breast and quickly entered the house, closing the door behind him. Walking through several rooms, he stopped in front of a cupboard. "You'll be fine. Just stay behind my toy soldiers for the moment. I'll be back when I've finished cleaning."

And the boy I had only seen for a moment disappeared, right after he placed me behind said toy soldiers. The last thing I heard was the click of the door, before I was once more plunged into darkness. However, this time the darkness felt more comforting. Because surely I had found a master who loved me.

* * *

It felt like an eternity before the door to the cupboard opened up, and the mysterious boy stepped through. Immediately his eyes sought my figure, and I wanted to smile at him, to acknowledge him. But such a thing wasn't possible for a doll. The toy soldiers before me were carelessly brushed aside, and I was picked up with the care of a new-born baby. I wondered of this was a temporary thing, too. Would I be brushed off like those toy soldiers one day, too? It really did seem like boy dolls were cursed for life. But, within that short moment of self-misery, I was pressed against the small boy's chest again. It felt warm and comfortable, and I was fairly surprised. After a few seconds I picked up on the mumbling.

"–never had a toy before. Dudley always broke everything I may have gotten. And all the toys before were thrown away before I could lay a hand on them. 'Sides, they were all broken. I'm glad you're not, though. You're my first toy ever. And you're so pretty too."

I was left dangling in his hands, as he closely inspected me, his green eyes nearly fathomless. He turned me around and around, turned me upside down, undressed me and made sure every remaining trace form garbage was erased. All the while he kept mumbling incoherently. "–disgraceful–", "–beautiful–", "–Dudley–", they were all words I heard. I couldn't help but wonder who this boy was. Surely it couldn't be a relative of the other humans I saw? Besides, this boy had black hair, whereas the other boy, that Dudley, had blond hair, just as his mother. Only the father had black hair, but that's where the similarities ended. Whoever this boy was, I owed him one. For the first time since I was created, I wished to be human, so I could properly thank this boy who held me as something precious. But, alas, I was a doll, and therefore would never be able to properly thank the person responsible for saving me. If I could feel regret, I was sure that that was the opportune moment.


	3. Reminiscence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: *cough* *cough*. So, uhm, apparently this took one and a half year...? Like, what? I never intended for it to take so long... Strange how such a long time can go by without me noticing it. And now, for the people who get a notification, I bet most will go like: "Huh? What kind of fic is/was this again...?" And then I think most will be like: "Wow, it took her so long to update! I thought she'd dropped it already!". Ah, once more, I will never, ever drop my fics. Though it might take years for an update (like, seriously, it just might...), I will get back to writing it. Some day, that is... It's just that my life is crazily filled up with everything. 4 Days of school, 3 days of work, 0 free days to do fun things (haha, no, it's not really that bad, but I really don't have a lot of time for my hobbies anymore). Basically. So, writing is put on the backburner. Though I suddenly felt like writing today, so that's what I did ^^. Anyway, I hope you will like this chapter, too!

**Reminiscence**

* * *

When I was nearly nine years old, I got myself something precious. To most, it would seem like a trivial thing, just another toy for another child. But to me, it was everything I ever wanted. Having never had a toy or any such thing besides the toy soldiers, it was a novelty for me that such an opportunity presented itself to me. I can still remember the day it happened. Of course it had been Dudley’s birthday. The Dursleys had been preparing for it for an entire week. After all, everything had to be perfect for their perfect little son’s birthday. Not to mention the guests, too. All the presents had been bought and wrapped, stowed away in the basement down below. Of course there had been so many that I lost count. I had helped with the preparations for the birthday, as always. After that, I was herded back to my cupboard again, where I was supposed to stay for the entirety of the day.

At least, that was what was supposed to happen. I don’t know if it was the curiosity, or just the longing of a little boy who had nothing, but I sneaked out when everybody was seated inside. The door was left open, if only a crack, and I was able to watch Dudley unwrap his presents. Most of the presents weren’t even worth a second glance to my cousin. A few of them actually attracted a look of vague appreciation on Dudley’s face. But his excitement clearly showed when he took the wrapping paper off of the cardboard box of the G.I. Joe. I’ve heard Dudley whine and whine, day in and out, about this toy. However, his excitement quickly turned to indignation and anger. His face quickly turned red in the impressive time-span of three seconds. The figure was lifted out of the box, but immediately it became obvious that it was far from a “Space Crusader”. In fact, if you didn’t know better, you could almost say that the doll Dudley held was a beautiful female puppet. The toy was quickly rejected and thrown away to the ground. My heart began to race. Would Dudley forget about throwing the toy to the ground? A childish, futile hope grew within me. But I stomped it down as quickly as it came up. Most of the toys Dudley didn’t want were thrashed around. Who was to say he wouldn’t stomp on it and throw it away?

I quickly realised the Dursleys were not going to be around much longer, what with Dudley’s face ready to explode. So I quickly hid in my cupboard, hoping, but not daring, to believe the toy would be all right. I didn’t feel the sense of loss and hopelessness that I normally felt when it was Dudley’s birthday. There was no melancholy, and barely any bitter feelings. My only thoughts went out to the pretty doll, lying so broken and rejected on the ground.

After a while there was a lot of commotion, and the laughing voices of people leaving. When it quieted down, there were several brisk knocks on my door. “Be sure to clean everything up. We’ll be back soon, so don’t you dare try anything.” And so even the Dursleys went away.

Opening my door a crack, I looked around to make sure there was no-one left behind. After I had ascertained that no-one was there, I opened the door to the living room, where my gaze was immediately drawn to the spot where the toy had been. However, it wasn’t there. But I couldn’t lift my hopes up yet. With dread, I walked to the back door and opened it, stepping through. The container was where it had always stood, though the distance felt a lot larger than usual. As I lifted my hand to lift the lid, I took a deep breath, before I pulled. Immediately I saw the delicate porcelain face staring up at me, with dirt all around and on it. But I felt relieved anyway, because it didn’t look as if it had been broken in any kind of way.

I gently picked it up, patting away the dirt and grime, and peered at the porcelain face which was so close to mine. Looking left and right, I wondered if the Dursleys would be back soon. It was fun, talking to a doll. Something man-made could hardly make any crude remarks about me. I hurried back inside, fervently hoping they would never know I practically stole something of Dudley’s, even though he threw it out himself. The Dursleys wouldn’t even grant me a broken toy, let alone a doll which was in excellent state. As I neared my cupboard, I realised how hopeless the situation was. Aunt Petunia usually looked into my cupboard. But quickly my panic abated. I opened the door, and noticed the thing I was looking for. The only other thing I had ever been granted. In fact, the toy soldiers were only stored into the cupboard by Dudley. He had completely forgotten them. I think he wanted to frame me, by blaming me that I had stolen his soldiers. But I was grateful for them, and they could actually be put to good use. I placed the doll behind the toy soldiers, and quickly closed the cupboard.

Walking to the kitchen, an involuntary moan escaped my throat. This was going to be tough. The pile of dishes on the counter seemed to rise and rise before me…

* * *

Halfway through the cleaning, the Dursleys returned again. Dudley seemed ecstatic, and I knew he had finally received what he wanted for so long.

The “aren’t you finished yet” was expected when they saw me still doing the dishes. I lowered my head and muttered a quick sorry. Always admit and submit. Those were the rules to living in this house if your name was Harry Potter, the unwanted child left behind by Lily and James Potter. The poor orphan, all by himself. It was something akin to a miracle the Dursleys even agreed to taking me in after my parents died. Soon even the dishes were done and vacuum cleaning was next. Excitement was already building in my body, and I struggled to keep the smile off of my face. The Dursleys were always suspicious of smiles.

I hurried to my cupboard when all of my chores were done, and I realised it was already late in the evening, as the sun had already set. I hardly dared to breathe as I pulled the cord to turn on the light bulb. But there he was, pale as the moonlight, sitting behind the toy soldiers, in a darkened corner. I brushed the soldiers aside, and gently scooped him up, before I nearly crushed him against my chest, the realisation sinking in that I had finally acquired something of my own. I murmured words I barely heard myself, before I held him before me at a distance, inspecting him thoroughly for the first time.

His face was of perfect porcelain, though there was a small hint of colour on the cheekbones. The lips were dark-pink, and nearly feminine. The eyes were grey, and they seemed to nearly glint in the scarce light, though they were more narrow than most doll eyes seemed to be. I could barely look at the face so different from my own. The nose, the lashes, the eyebrows… they were all perfectly shaped. Though I reckoned they had to be, since it was a doll, and dolls were perfect. Besides these features, he had blond hair, on the edge of white. The hands were small and delicate, though long-fingered.

I removed his clothes, to make sure all the dirt was properly shaken off, and nothing was left behind. The cloth body was pure white, untouched by the dirt. The arms and legs, made from the same material as the head, were unblemished, too. Both the feet and hands were extremely detailed, being no less than the head. 

Grabbing a cloth, I began to wipe at the head, covered in dirt. Soon the dull shine returned to the face, and I breathed out a relieved sigh. My heart was pounding, though, as I realised what I had done, and what kind of consequences could await me. If _any_ of the Dursleys found out, I’d be punished. And the doll would most probably end up in Dudley’s grasp, where it would await a fate worse than death. Not wanting such a thing to happen, I placed the doll back on the shelf, tucking it away in the darkened corner. Placing the toy soldiers back, the doll boy was barely noticeable. My heart kept pounding when I thought of all the possibilities of the Dursleys finding out what happened. I snuck a quick last glance at the doll before I turned off the light, the small cupboard room turning into a dark hole, safe for the cracks which leaked light into the small space. Sighing, I lifted the covers and went to sleep.


End file.
